Laws of Motion
by christarr
Summary: They're not yet breaking the laws of Physics. They're just falling in love. Newton's Laws of Motion affect Booth and Brennan more than they realize.
1. Inertia

**Disclaimer: Not mine. But if you don't already know that I worry a little bit.**

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_An object at rest remains at rest unless acted upon by an outside force._

"Sweetie, it's just for one night," Angela said, bobbing eagerly on the balls of her feet.

Temperance Brennan frowned. "I could probably identify up to twenty bodies in Limbo for all of the 'just one night's' you've made me have."

The pretty brunette gave her best friend an exasperated look and an exaggerated sigh. "Well, those twenty bodies will need to wait one more night. This is worthwhile, I _promise._"

The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal lab was still bustling with activity, as it was early evening, yet the artist was urging her friend to leave early—a feat rarely accomplished. It had taken her many a soppy, begging expression to even convince the doctor of this much.

"If you could just tell me who this date is with," Temperance protested half-heartedly, as Angela gently shoved her out of the way and began shutting down her computer.

"That would defeat the purpose of a _blind_ date."

"But— Ange, I need those files!" the forensic anthropologist cried in horror as the artist shut down page after page on the desktop.

"Don't worry," she said, rolling her eyes. "I saved everything. Now go change!"

Angela shoved a package into her friend's hands and ushered her from the room. The only thing Temperance could do in protest was sigh loudly and stomp loudly from the room, giving her the feeling that she was a five-year-old having a temper tantrum. However, once she had slipped into the dress set out for her, she began to change her attitude ever-so-slightly.

"Thanks for the dress," she said reluctantly from the passenger's seat of Angela's car.

Angela smirked. "I told you you'd like it."

They drove in silence for several minutes. Temperance stared out the windshield, apparently deep in thought. Angela merely smiled. She was thinking about the date she had set up for her best friend. It could either turn out extremely well or extremely badly, she had decided. There was most likely no room for middle ground in this case.

As they pulled into the parking lot of a nice looking restaurant, Angela turned to her friend. "Sweetie, promise me something."

Temperance glanced sideways. "You know I don't make promises without knowing what I'm agreeing to."

Angela smiled. "Just try to make this guy want a second date, okay? Don't make assumptions."

"I don't like to make assumptions. I let evidence speak for itself."

Angela gave her a look. "Just promise me, Sweetie."

Temperance rolled her eyes. "Fine. I promise to give whomever this blind date is a chance."

"Good."

With that, Angela walked swiftly toward the bustling restaurant, Temperance at her side and biting her lip nervously. The room was brightly lit when they entered. Angela was smiling broadly, winking at a couple of the men staring her way.

"Two for Angela Montenegro," Angela told the waitress, who nodded. The artist smiled at her friend, giving her a gentle squeeze on the arm. "Good luck!"

"Ange, wait—" Temperance protested, but the enthusiastic woman in question had already vanished into the crowd.

The waitress smiled encouragingly. "Your date is already here, ma'am."

With a sigh, Temperance followed—then stopped dead in her tracks when she saw who sat at the table she was led to.

"Booth?"

The agent looked up. "Bones?"

Temperance sat down carefully, not breaking eye contact with her partner before they both muttered, "Angela."

"I guess we should have guessed she'd pull something like this," Booth said, smiling wryly.

Temperance frowned. "She should know better than to do this."

Booth's smile slid off his face. "Is it because of me?"

"Of course it's because of you! She knows that we don't condone romantic relationships with co-workers."

In usual form, Temperance didn't see the way her partner-now-date's shoulders slumped at yet another rejection. She stood abruptly. "I should call her. I need to make sure she knows that this is unacceptable."

"Bones!" Booth cried in exasperation. "Bones, she's paying for our dinner. We should at least have the courtesy of enjoying ourselves for her sake."

"You knew about this," Temperance accused. "How could you agree to something so absurd?"

"I didn't know! She told me that she found someone who was interested and that she felt bad about me losing my weekend with Parker for a case."

For a moment, this was news to her. However, she quickly recovered. "And you believed her?"

"Yes," Booth exclaimed, wondering why on earth she was so angry about this. "I believed her because, unlike you, she cares about people—who are still alive, anyways."

The room fell silent, watching this exchange. It wasn't until he felt the heavy, invasive stares upon them that he realized that they had been shouting. The instinctive apology that always came after an argument with her died on his lips as he saw the look on her face. Suddenly, he knew that he needed something more.

Before he could muster the words, she turned on her heel and stormed from the room.

"Bones—Temperance, wait!" he shouted, following close behind her. She shook off his grip on her arm and continued on until they were at the edge of the parking lot. It was only then that she turned around and cursed loudly.

"Angela drove me here. Damn it!" She whipped out her cell phone. "I'm calling a cab."

As she fumbled with the numbers, Booth put a hand over hers, blocking the screen and bringing her attention to him.

"Temperance," he began, his head bent toward her and his voice low, "I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean that."

She avoided his gaze. "I know you didn't, Booth, but now you must understand why we can't be in a relationship."

"Actually, I don't."

When she finally met his gaze, he was stunned by the hurt that was shown in those big, blue orbs. "You know me better than anyone. You know exactly how to hurt me the most."

"I don't mean to hurt you, Temperance. Yeah, we drive each other nucking futs—"

"I don't know what that means."

Booth smiled inwardly. He had purposefully used an unusual euphemism to draw them back to familiar ground. "I know you don't, Bones. And that's part of the reason I love you. I just—what I mean is I care about you. A lot. I would never hurt you on purpose."

"But you still hurt me, even if you don't mean to." She took a shaky breath. "I've distanced myself from others for so long. Then you came along. Logically, it should have been easy to keep you out. You're an agent, not another scientist. We speak different languages, figuratively, of course, because we both speak English to each other. However, you somehow find a way to make me feel different, not only biologically but something different. I've never felt this way. You don't stay at a safe distance, and it scares me."

It was only then that Seeley realized that he was nearly nose-to-nose with her throughout her small speech. He reluctantly took a step back when she gave him a pointed look.

"Bones—"

He couldn't find the words to respond. He wanted so badly to allay her fears, to tell her that she didn't have anything to fear, but he knew that it wasn't true. He knew that he wanted her just as badly as he did before, and that if they were going to go anywhere, they both risked the chance of being hurt. He was willing to risk it. He now had to convince her to take the same risk.

He did what seemed right. To hell with it all, he kissed her.

Her breath hitched under his lips, and for one wild moment, he was afraid that she'd kick his ass. But then something sparked in her, and she was kissing him back.

This was different from the last kiss they'd shared. Temperance was letting him lead this time, and neither was holding back. His tongue was hungrily discovering every crevice of her mouth. She pressed against him, her inhibitions shattered and her thirst for more increasing exponentially with every passing moment.

It was only when he realized that they had a growing audience that he reluctantly pulled away from her. For several seconds, they just stared at each other, blue eyes meeting chocolate and communication no longer seemed necessary. Without ever verbally agreeing, they headed back into the building. He casually wrapped an arm around her waist, and she instinctively leaned into his touch.

They pretended not to notice the stares from the other customers, who were perhaps shocked to see the once passionately fighting couple now completely content in each other's presence. They wouldn't understand anyways, the two silently agreed.

When they finally settled back into their seats at the table, Temperance cleared her throat and said in a low voice that held some level of humor, "I guess I did promise Angela that I'd give my blind date a chance."

Seeley smiled. "I'm glad you did, Bones. I'm glad you did."

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**A/N: What do you think? I'm going to make this a three part story for all 3 of Newton's laws. I thought of this during Physics class because I have an exceptionally boring teacher. It's my first Bones fic, so hopefully I can keep in character. Please let me know if you see something that is blindingly OoC.**

**Point of Discussion: What was the outside force in this case? I thought I made it clear in my head, but when I read it again I realized that a couple of things could be it.**

**Please take a second and press that big button right there and tell me what you think. Thanks!**

**P.S. Hope everyone had a happy holiday (whatever it is you celebrate) and have a good new year!**

**And yes, I used nucking futs. I've always wanted to use that in a story :]**


	2. Force equals Mass times Acceleration

_The change of momentum of a body is proportional to the impulse impressed on the body, and happens along the straight line on which that impulse is impressed._

As Booth and Brennan resumed their place in the restaurant, both were aware of the stares of the surrounding diners.

"That's so sweet," one of them commented quietly. "They've already made up. Why can't we make up that fast?"

"What an asshole," another whispered. "I can't believe she's letting him get away saying something like that."

What they didn't understand was that their actions were neither sweet nor particularly unusual, at least not to them. As Sweets had pointed out numerous times, they moved on a different level that those outside their partnership could ever understand.

"Let them talk," Booth said in a low voice. "They need to get their entertainment somewhere."

Brennan smiled, cocking her head to the side in usual Bones-fashion. "I don't care what they say about me."

Then she paused. Someone to their right whispered, "So that must be her Andy Lister."

Booth shot her his charm smile, and she rolled her eyes. She didn't comment, instead choosing to open her menu and pretend to ignore him.

He followed her move and, after a moment, asked, "See anything you like?"

"I think I'm favoring the macaroni and cheese," she answered, grinning cheekily.

He grinned. "Imagine that. Me, too."

They fell into comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Brennan tried so hard to imagine what would happen next. Would Booth expect more? What would he expect from her? However, she was and always would be a rationalist, and there was nothing that could give her concrete evidence to grant her answers.

"I don't know what we're supposed to be doing," she finally said quietly.

Booth nodded in understanding. "Neither do I."

"I don't want to pretend that this is nothing."

"Neither do I," he said again. "This is pretty big."

"It is."

Brennan sighed, her mind reeling. Booth was her partner, friend, and confidant. She couldn't imagine the awful repercussions when this relationship, should it develop into something more, went bad. As if sensing her inner turmoil, Booth squeezed her hand gently. Her skin seemed to tingle pleasantly under his touch.

She could do what she always did. She could just believe that everything about Booth—from the lingering touches, the way he made her anxious to be around him, to the way that she looked forward to working cases with him— was all because of biological necessity. However, she didn't want it to be just that.

And neither did he.

They were both silently contemplating when the waiter came to take their orders. Brennan placed her order but gave Booth an odd look when he suddenly changed his mind at the last moment.

"It wouldn't be as good as yours," he said matter-of-factly when the waiter walked away. She hadn't even asked.

"You don't know that," she commented, taking a sip of her water.

He leaned forward. She unconsciously mirrored him, and he said resolutely, "Yeah, Bones. Yeah, I do."

She smiled again, unsure of what to say in response but flattered nonetheless. After a pregnant pause, she said in a low voice, "I want this to be right."

"Me, too," he agreed, mirroring her body language so that they were nearly nose-to-nose. "I want to try if you promise that you'll do the same."

She hesitated a moment, weighing her options in her mind. "I'd like to try."

He grinned and leaned back in his seat. His grip on her hand resting on the table tightened again, but this time, he didn't let go. She let him be closer to her than she'd ever let anyone before, and it scared her more than reason could explain. However, no matter her fears, above all else, she wanted him to stay. She didn't want to hurt him or make him leave.

"You're doing just fine," he said suddenly, his eyes filled with compassion. As if he could read her mind, he continued, "We'll make this work. We always do."

She searched her mind for the proper response, but before she could speak, his phone trilled loudly.

With a sigh and an apologetic grimace, he answered, "Booth."

After a moment's pause and a quick conversation, he hung up, his expression unreadable. "We've got a case."

It took them several minutes to flag down a waiter and cancel their orders. Booth was huffy, but Brennan kept her face carefully impassive. She was deeply disappointed that their "date"—she was still hesitant to call it such—was interrupted so soon. However, she knew that Booth would only blame himself if she showed her disappointment, and she hated seeing him angry, especially when it was at himself.

As they walked to Booth's car, his hand on its place on the small of her back, he said, "Sorry about this, Bones."

She sighed. "It's not your fault, Booth. We have very demanding jobs. You can't control the timings of murderers or your superiors."

Booth smiled. "No, I don't suppose I can." He paused as they climbed into the SUV. "But I'm still gonna make this up to you."

"That's not necessary."

"I know." He was giving her that infuriating charm smile. "One night, no work. I promise."

She hesitated for a moment. "That sounds like a good idea."

"Yeah, it does."

When they reached the crime scene, Brennan felt a jolt at seeing the flashing lights and bustle of those around her. Some sort of irrational expectation had built up in her that the scene would somehow be different now that things were so different for her. The familiarity was rather disconcerting.

The body was rather unspectacular by their usual standards. It was a middle-aged male, found hanging from a tree in a federally-owned park.

Brennan had the remains shipped to the Jeffersonian after identifying what she could.

Everything seemed to move by her so quickly, even though she knew that time was constant and unchanging. Things had shifted between the two partners. She felt Booth's presence as she leaned over the observation table. She was used to his gaze on her while she worked. It hadn't been an uncomfortable gaze before, but now it served as a distraction. When he moved toward her as she explained her findings, his fingers unconsciously tangled in her hair. She felt shivers run down her spine but forced herself to focus on the victim. She was hyperaware of his warm scent and gentle contact.

Despite the distraction, it didn't take long for her to find the cause of death. He was clearly stabbed several times before being hung up in the tree.

Angela was now sketching the face. She had seemed distracted by the fact that they had come in together, asking her best friend question after question about her "relationship."

By the time that the sketch was completed and run through the FBI identification system, Brennan felt as though her head was spinning.

And soon, there was a hit, and the two partners were on their way.

"You did good, Bones," Booth said as they walked briskly out the doors of the Jeffersonian.

"I'm just doing my job," she answered automatically. "We're doing our job."

"We are," he agreed. "And see? We work just fine, even if we're, you know—"

She frowned. "We aren't technically dating, Booth. Half of a date does not constitute dating."

He waved her off nonchalantly. "Technicality. Besides, when did you become the Doctor Phil of dating?"

"I'm Doctor _Brennan_," she retorted with an eye roll.

Booth grinned. They were at his SUV again.

He came to a stop beside her and hesitated for a moment. While under normal circumstances he would head straight to the driver's side, he now stood facing her, leaning in carefully. He touched her face, gently lifting her chin so that she looked him in the eye. "I know who you are, Bones, and I love you for that. Have for a while, I think. As far as I'm concerned, nothing's changed."

She froze. Something in her—her "gut," she supposed—had known his feelings, but she had quashed that suspicion, refusing to believe it at that time, but now the cat was out of the proverbial sack, purse, or whatever it was, and she couldn't ignore it.

He saw her deer-in-the-headlights expression and smiled wryly. "You don't have to say it. I get that you're not the best at confronting emotions." He kissed the top of her head. "This isn't something you can rationalize. You just go with it."

She smiled. Whatever this "it" was, Booth had slowly been teaching her, and she was slowly getting better at it. She hoped that she had been a good enough student.

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**A/N: Hey all. This took so much longer than I expected. It was stupid of me to post a story right before one of the busiest times of the school year. I've been so swamped. The last chapter shouldn't take this long.**

**Sorry I skimmed over the case. I'm no good at that sort of thing without a lot of research, and I didn't want to delay the chapter much longer, so forgive my briefness.**

**Anywho, enjoy!**

**P.S. Reviews make me a happy person. :)**


	3. Law of Reciprocal Actions

**A/N: Disclaimer: not mine of course.**

**There's a little bit at the end, but I don't write smut generally. Leave it to your imagination :P**

**Sorry this took so long. I fail. Well, this is the last chapter, so no more dealing with my fail for a while.**

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_To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction._

The case was one of the partner's easier cases. They found the victim's identity quickly as he was already in the system for petty crime. The murderer was a club owner who had, oh-so-brilliantly left the knife that killed him at the scene. Prints and all. Angela dubbed him, "The most dumbass murderer she's ever heard of." Booth begged to differ, but that was beside the point as they were already on their way to catch the man.

The only snag in the case occurred when the two partners moved in on the suspect, who was much larger and meatier than either had expected.

"Mr. McKay, you're under arrest for—" Booth said, approaching the muscular man slowly. Though Booth was not necessarily average in size—all muscle, thank you very much—the suspected murderer still had a hundred-plus pounds of pure steel on him.

Before the agent could finish reading the charges against him, the behemoth grunted in anger and pulled a gun on the unsuspecting forensic anthropologist. Booth automatically moved to the holster at his waist, and Temperance swiftly maneuvered herself so that she subtly took hold of his backup piece.

"Lower your weapon," Booth warned quietly, angling himself in front of his partner and inching closer to the suspect.

"We know you're guilty, Mr. McKay. We know you killed Scott Francis," she said confidently.

Booth shot her a "Shut the hell up, Bones" look over his shoulder. However, this brief distraction, coupled with his close proximity to the suspect, led to a flurry of motion that neither was prepared for.

The gun clattered to the ground as the suspect knocked it from the agent's grasp. Temperance's fingers tightened around her own borrowed piece, but it was useless as the man wrapped his thick arm around Booth's neck in a choke hold.

He could feel the mouth of the gun pressed against his temple, and he could see that her eyes were wide with shock and a little bit of fear. Yet he could also see the gears in her mind rotating, calculating the sudden turn of events.

"Drop the gun," McKay ordered with a deep, booming voice.

In the blink of an eye, Booth nodded to his partner and jerked back his head, connecting with McKay's nose. McKay cried out as he fumbled with his gun and, just as he regained his grip on it, a bang resounded through the narrow alley.

"Nice shot, Bones," Booth said appreciatively, as the suspect grasped at his arm in pain.

After that, it was smooth sailing. The cuffs were clicked into place, and the man was booked. Yet as the case slowed down to mere paperwork, Temperance wished that there was more excitement to take her mind off of more pressing issues.

Her mind still reeled from her stunning moments with Booth. Because of the fast-paced movement of the case, she had not had time to dwell on those moments that she had shared with her partner. As if by some unspoken agreement, they had temporarily set aside their emotions to get this case done and out of their way. She didn't know where they stood. Boyfriend and girlfriend seemed too fickle for two partners such as them.

Her mind was still reeling from those three words that she had unconsciously shied from since she was fifteen.

"I love you."

Three simple words that threw her off balance and disrupted the comfortable line that they had been using as an excuse for the past four years.

"You saved my life today, Bones."

She jumped at the familiar voice that broke the still silence of her office.

"I didn't do anything. You knocked him down. I just—"

"Shot him before he could shoot me," Booth finished with a wry smile. "Kinda makes it worth the paperwork."

She didn't say anything for a moment. Then she said, "I don't like having to save you."

He frowned at her.

Realizing that she must have confused him and how her words must have been misconstrued, she clarified, "Don't put yourself in dangerous positions where I have to save you. I don't like it."

His eyes widened in realization. "I'll try not."

"Good," she responded quietly.

"Only if you don't put me in positions where I have to save you."

"I'll try not," she retorted good-naturedly.

They exchanged smiles, each looking at each other with an understanding that only they seemed to share.

"How about neither of us gets in any danger from now on?" he suggested.

Temperance stood and walked from behind her desk. "That wouldn't be very logical, would it?"

He inched closer to her, until they were standing nose-to-nose. "Not really."

"I don't suppose logic means much at this point in time," she noted, and then she closed the distance between them.

As she pressed her lips to his, he wrapped his arms around her. They were so close, her fingers entwining in his hair, and his hands wandering across the soft skin of her back.

"Perhaps we should relocate," she whispered when they resurfaced some time later.

Booth grunted in agreement, attempting to straighten his slightly askew clothing. Temperance did the same, while hastily saving and shutting down her computer.

It was late at night. Everyone had gone home to get some well-deserved rest, so the lab was nearly completely still. The silence thundered as the words she couldn't seem to form reverberated in her mind. The words were there, but for some reason, they wouldn't come.

Booth seemed to sense her hesitation because he said seriously, "I don't want to force this on you, Bones. I want you to be ready."

"I'm ready," she protested. He looked dubious, so she cried, "I am! Really, I just—"

He didn't look satisfied. His eyes were filled with genuine concern. There was no hurt, nothing to indicate that he was expecting anything of her. He was so damn good to her.

"I love you." The words tumbled from her mouth before she could gather her thoughts.

His eyes widened in alarm, and he stammered, "What?"

She took a deep breath, this time thinking through what she was going to say.

But that didn't work, so she settled on the straightforward, which she had always been best at. "I love you."

His eyes twinkled, and he held a finger to her lips so that her mouth would not run away without her again.

"I love you, too," he replied, pressing his lips to hers more urgently than before.

Time couldn't be wasted by driving to one of their homes; so instead, she slammed the door to her office shut with her leg, and they collapsed on her couch. Their breaths mingled, as he slowly unbuttoned her blouse with shaking hands. She fervently and briskly pulled his shirt off, taking her lips off of him for only a brief moment. His fingers danced along her back and unhooked her bra. Pants eased themselves to the ground, and with all barriers gone, nothing stopped them.

"I love you," she breathed, the words now flowing easy as they moved to the same beat.

"Temperance," he moaned as he pressed himself against her.

As they reached their climax, they knew that there was something more for them. It wasn't just another relationship. It wasn't just satisfying biological urges.

For the first time, and for many times to come, they were one—Physics and all of its laws be damned.

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**A/N: Please review and let me know what you think.**

**I'm going to write another fic that actually has a legit case in it. It probably won't be a sequel, though I suppose if I get enough support I can write one.**

**-Christa**


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